


Kinloch Hold

by crmsndragonwngs



Series: Cullen's Past and Memories [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dark Past, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Lyrium Addiction, Lyrium Withdrawal, Past Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5676517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crmsndragonwngs/pseuds/crmsndragonwngs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the nights when he couldn’t shake the fever, the wine didn’t ease his headaches, and Ellana was not there to distract him, Cullen thought of Kinloch Hold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kinloch Hold

**Author's Note:**

> I like making Cullen think about his past. I also like the idea that all the possible player characters in DA:O exist regardless of which one you choose. I also also like giving player characters canon names in my fics. 
> 
> The warnings are just to be safe. I don't think it's really that graphic, but I understand why some scenes could be considered disturbing.

On the nights when he couldn’t shake the fever, the wine didn’t ease his headaches, and Ellana was not there to distract him, Cullen thought of Kinloch Hold. He didn’t particularly enjoy these moments, but at least when he was awake he could control the memories. They didn’t hurt so much when he knew they weren’t real, like they so often felt in his dreams.

The night air was cool on his fevered skin through the thin fabric of his satin shirt and he closed his eyes against the mountain breeze, enjoying how it swept through his sweat-matted hair. He couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to Lake Calenhad, and the cold Fereldan wind blowing through the Circle Tower. He could feel the old stone walls around him, sucking from the room whatever heat he generated, huddled as he was beneath the quilt his mother had practically forced him to take when he’d left the Honnleath Chantry. He didn’t mind, though. He could hear the murmuring of the guard in the hall and the buzz of magic had fallen asleep with the mages they were meant to watch over. The tower was peaceful.

Despite the peace that seeped into his bones with the cold, he couldn’t sleep. Knight-Commander Greagoir had chosen him to attend Solona Amell’s Harrowing, and while this certainly wouldn’t be his first Harrowing, it was the first he would attend that involved someone he…knew. He understood why the Knight-Commander had chosen him, the tower wasn’t nearly as big as it seemed and everyone knew everyone else’s business, but that didn’t stop the pang of contempt he felt in his gut. What if she— But the thought was cut short by a knock on his door so soft he wasn’t sure he’d even heard it.

“Cullen?” A very small voice said softly. The knock sounded again and Cullen stood, his heart leaping into his throat. “Hurry up, the guard’s coming back.” She hissed, her voice urgent. He opened the door and caught her arm, hauling her inside and shutting the door again before the candle-light landed on them both.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, releasing her when he realized how close he was holding her. She giggled and stepped away from him to light the candle on his nightstand.

“I came to see you, silly.” She said, spinning to face him. Her features were soft and delicate in the warm light, and the way she looked at him took his breath away. Andraste preserve him, was she beautiful. She grinned at him and took a step forward, her hips swaying luridly. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah, me neither.” He admitted, unable to keep his eyes from wandering over her slender form, the soft curves of her hips, and the lovely slope of her breasts

“Are you nervous, Ser Cullen?” She teased, slinking up to him and tracing the hard muscles of his stomach and chest through his shirt.

“Aren’t you?” He asked softly, hesitantly resting his hands on her waist. She leaned into him, and Maker’s breath her face was so close to his.

“No.” She said. Her voice was coy, but he could hear the husky note of desire there. The idea that she wanted him sent a thrill up his spine and he suppressed his shudder. “It’s just a demon, right? What could go wrong?” 

“Solona.” He murmured, drawing his arms around her waist and resting his forehead against hers. She shivered and he smiled.

“Maker’s breath, I like hearing that so much more than ‘Miss Amell’.” She sighed, pressing herself against him. She was so soft and fragile in his arms, it wasn’t hard to believe she’d lived in the tower since she was a child. Granted, it wasn’t as if he’d seen much battle, but she felt as though she would blow away in a stout wind. “And anyway, how can I be nervous when I know you’ll be there to protect me?”

“Don’t say that, Solona.” He said, and he couldn’t stop the panic from closing his throat. She brushed her fingertips along his jaw and he let out a shaky sigh. “Once you enter the Fade, I can’t protect you. I wish I could.”

“I’ll be fine, Cullen.” She breathed, then pressed her lips to his. She kissed him softly and clumsily. He returned it hesitantly and he could feel heat rising in his cheeks.

“Lights out, Rutherford!” A booming voice ripped open the silence, causing mage and Templar both to jump nearly out of their skins. They froze for a moment, then Cullen released her and snuffed out the candle.

“I should go.” She hissed, edging toward the door. Cullen spun around and caught her waist, pulling her back against him.

“Wait a moment.” He murmured, finding her lips again in the darkness. “Goodnight.” He said as he pulled away. She rested her head on his chest for a moment, then slipped out the door.

“Commander?” A voice called, jolting him out of the memory.

“Yes?” He answered, straightening and turning toward the archer that had approached.

“A-are you…alright?” The archer asked hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure it was his place. Cullen allowed a stiff smile and nodded once.

“Yes, I am.” He said through a sigh. “The mountainside is quiet?” The soldier straightened.

“Yessir.” He answered quickly, then into the silence that followed, “Commander.” He turned on his heel and returned to his post. Cullen watched him go, his eyes losing focus.

She’d woken up from her Harrowing with a strange light in her eyes, but she was sane and calm and when she looked at him there was relief in her eyes. The Knight-Commander helped her up, and Solona thanked him, though Cullen knew he wasn’t being kind. He was using his touch to evaluate the power in her blood. To see if the demon had possessed her. Cullen knew the process was necessary, but he caught himself thinking, not for the first time, that it was unfair.

“Congratulations, Enchanter Amell.” Greagoir said gruffly. “You’ve successfully completed your Harrowing.” First Enchanter Irving smiled gently and took her by the shoulders.

“You did well, Solona.” He said kindly, and her eyes found Cullen’s in the gloom. She smiled, but there was something strange in it. He found her later in the library, hunched over a book by the light of a dying candle.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, unsure of what else to say. She jumped and looked up at him, closing the book more forcefully than he thought was necessary.

“Fine.” She said shortly, then closed her eyes. “Sorry. I’m fine, Cullen, just…it’s been a long day.”

“Want to talk about it?” He asked, shifting his weight uncomfortably. She smiled at him, that same strange smile that she’d given him in the Harrowing Chamber.

“Not really.” She said apologetically, then hesitated. “I met a Grey Warden today.”

“A Warden?” He echoed and sat down in the chair across from her. “Here in the Tower?” She laughed at that.

“Of course, where else?” She giggled again, then her face grew somber. “He wants to recruit me.” Cullen’s heart stopped.

“Recruit you? Into the Wardens? Why?” He asked. She frowned deeply, looking offended.

“Why not? I’m a skilled mage with no family. A perfect candidate.”

“Solona, are you actually considering this?”

“Of course.” And her face twisted into anger. He shrank under the sudden fierceness of her gaze. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Solona…” He started, bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of his head. Her look softened.

“We’re in a Blight, Cullen. Did you know that?”

“No.” The Circle mages and Templars were barely a part of outside society, and rarely knew much of current events.

“Me neither.” She answered softly. “Cullen, this is a chance for me to get out of here and really _do_ something. Something worthwhile.” Cullen flinched.

“I…wish you luck.” He said through his teeth.

“Cullen, don’t be upset.”

“I’m not upset.” He stood and squared his shoulders, meeting her eyes coldly. “Go and chase your whims. If you ever wish to return…well, I’m sure the Tower will welcome you heartily.”

“But not you.” She narrowed her eyes, trying to hide the tears welling there.

“There you are, Solona!” A new voice said and Solona scrubbed the tears from her eyes. A young enchanter, Jowan, pushed around him and gave him a hard look.

“Is the Templar bothering you?”

“No, Jowan.”

“I was just leaving. Enchanter Amell.” Then he spun on his heel and left, ignoring the clawing in his chest.

Cullen sighed deeply and leaned on the parapet, gazing out at the glittering snow. He remembered the look on her face when the Knight-Commander had figured out what was happening. When he’d taken Cullen to chase down the would-be apostates and the treacherous Chantry initiate like dogs. The chase had ended outside the Harrowing chamber, and realizing she’d been cornered, she’d looked at him with tortured eyes and taken a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry, Cullen.” She’d said, then cut her wrist and made herself a Maleficar.

He remembered the feeling of the blood magic on his skin, thick and hot and wet. It had smelled like iron and Lyrium and it had made him gag. He remembered feeling himself losing control, feeling her cold and bloody fingers dig into his brain. The cage slammed down around him like the Maker’s fist, but the magic was dark and twisted into his veins like poison. She’d looked directly into his eyes as she summoned the desire demon. She’d cried as she slew the other Templars, had begged him to forgive her, that she was only trying to protect him by caging him like a beast. He remembered the hatred he’d felt. The anguish as the demon dragged its claws across his jaw, as it kissed his throat, and the hatred _burned_ in his heart, not only for her but for _all_ mages.

He shuddered hard enough at the memory to force a whimper from his throat and his blood _boiled_ as his heart had that day. He wanted to forget, and the Lyrium called to him, its song blue and cold. He felt the pain rack his body and he didn’t know if the symptoms had been brought on by the memories or if it was the other way around.

“Maker, I just want to forget.” He whispered, dropping his head into his hands.

“Maybe I can help with that?” A soft voice said behind him, making him jump and whirl around. Ellana looked at him with wide grey eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s alright.” He said, running his fingers through his hair. “I thought you were in the Hinterlands?”

“I just got back.” She said, gesturing toward the front gates. “We had to cut the mission short because of a miscommunication over supply transports to Redcliffe.”

“What miscommunication?” Cullen asked, glad to slide into professionalism. But Ellana was shaking her head.

“That can wait for the morning, _ma vhenan_.” She said gently, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Right now, I want to take that hurt out of your eyes.” She stepped closer to him, a sly smile turning up one corner of her mouth. “I want to make you forget whatever it is you need to forget.”

“Oh, Ellana.” He said, stepping into her and pushing his hand into her hair. He couldn’t stop the tremor in his voice. She didn’t ask about it, instead she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him, and her body was hard with years of fighting with more than just magic. There was nothing soft about this woman, and he loved her for it. She was so strong, both physically and mentally, and he would not lose her to demons, at least. His hold tightened on her at the thought and she moaned low in her throat.

“Come on.” She said huskily, pulling away and looking at him with need in her steel grey eyes. She led him into his office and he let her, shutting the door behind him. He hadn’t thought he could ever love anyone again, not after all that had happened in Kinloch Hold, but he loved her dearly. And when she turned to press herself against him again, his heart fluttered in his chest. 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me? How much I love you?” He asked, his voice soft. She smiled and put her hand on his chest.

“Of course I do.” She said, standing on her toes so that she could press a kiss to his lips. “Because you do the same to me. And I love you more than I ever thought I could.” He smiled at that and returned her kiss. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her, to deserve the feelings he had for her (Maker knew he’d done enough wrong to fill several lifetimes), but he was glad he’d done it.

**Author's Note:**

> So, my Warden was actually human noble (Elissa Cousland), but in my hc Solona Amell and Cullen had a thang, but she ended up turning into a blood mage, imprisoned Cullen herself, and then the rest you'll have to learn later on. This isn't so much a chapter fic as it is a group of loosely related fics. All my Dragon Age fics have a sort of continuity to them, so there are lots of recurring characters and relationships. My Warden will make an appearance too, and that's always fun :P
> 
> *cough* Warning: rambling ahead. If you stop reading here, I wouldn't blame you lol.
> 
> Anyway, I wrote this one a really long time ago (about a week after game launch because that's how long it took me to complete the game and start obsessively writing about it), I just haven't really had the time to go back and proofread. I updated it a lot to make it fit with my current style (ie: better than it used to be), so it shouldn't have been too much of a style shock for the people that sorta like my stuff, right?
> 
> I wanted to make it difficult to distinguish between Cullen's memories and his actual reality. He has a tendency to live his nightmares, and because of the lyrium withdrawal, he himself often can't tell what's real and what isn't (at least when he's having a rough night). Anyway, I hope it translated. So yeah, that's why it might be hard to follow sometimes? Idek lol 
> 
> Anyway, sorry. I'm actually pretty happy with this, which is when I tend to ramble the most, so I hope y'all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!


End file.
